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Despite the entertainment value provided by Harold “Elvis” Shulz’s recent email, this is the kind of response to a review I prefer:
Hey, this is Mark the guitarist from The Warm Gunns. Just read the review of the Dollsquad show, (Editor’s note:
www.degeneratepress.com/vault/xmas_2005/doll_squad.html) and wanted to say thanks for the mention. Sure, it wasn't the most glowing review we have ever received, but it was honest, well written, and you seem to have a pretty good grasp on where we are coming from. Yeah, we are pretty ridiculous, but ain't that what makes big dumb rock fun? And believe me, nobody would find it funnier if I fell in the trashcan, but me. Except maybe our drummer.
Patti Smith is untouchable, but dammit we love that song...
Also-would it be possible to use some of the pictures on our website and/or myspace page? Giving full credit to the photographer and the website, of course.
In other reviews, here’s Mudcat at Northside Tavern, and Brodie Stove, Hope for a Golden Summer, and Hot Young Priest at The Earl:
We caught a preview of The World's Fastest Indian this week. Anthony Hopkins does a good job of infusing the lead character Burt Munro with a mix of devil-may-care attitude from Down Under with an underlying obsession to do something big with his life. There's not much in the way of a supporting cast here. As Burt travels from New Zealand to Hollywood to Bonneville, different characters appear so that Burt can charm them, and the audience, on his journey to break speed records. But they seem more like passing witnesses than contributors to the story. But the sight of seeing an old man on an old bike blazing across the desert alone is what this movie is really about. Perhaps even to Burt, everyone else was just a quick blur he noticed as he blew by.
The film has gotten a bit of buzz. It's entertaining, but nearly empty calories. We lingered in a bar afterward to dissect the film and never even brought it up. There just wasn't much to talk about. Last week's Syriana inspired an hour or more of rambling conversation. With Indian, you know in the end he will get to Bonneville and will be given the chance to ride the Indian and will succeed. You fear the hurdles along the way, but they're leaped at such speed that the film lacks tension or suspense except for a few brief moments. Safe, harmless fun, perhaps for the whole family as it is Rated PG-13 "for brief language, drug use and a sexual reference." The "drug use" is Bill's heart medication. The "language" is so mild I can't even remember it (perhaps Kiwi curses don't catch my attention) and the "sexual reference" is a moment when Burt and a random woman wake up together.
I suppose that's why we go to movies - the thrill of vicarious living without the 200 mph dangers. But this ride doesn't take enough chances, so the vicarious living is less than thrilling.
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